Love Voodoo
by sweetness328
Summary: Set during AWE. Upon returning from World's End, Elizabeth reflects on her past and fears her future, namely where Jack is concerned. Can he accept her apology? - Sparrabeth -
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I am re-posting this story because I wanted to split it up into chapters to make it easier to read.**

**This is my first POTC fic, so please be gentle! I would like to dedicate this story to my fabulous beta, Princess of the Pearl, who stuck by my side for months while I muddled through it. Her comments and suggestions were invaluable, and I couldn't have done it without her. Thanks, Michelle! You're the best!**

**Also, special thanks to my husband Anthony, who listened to every line of this story while I was writing it and offered constructive criticism, whether he wanted to or not. (Especially considering the fact that he thinks I should have written Willabeth, since it's true to the movie...can you imagine?)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of its characters...everything belongs to Disney. The song in the story, "Love Voodoo," belongs to Duran Duran.**

_When I first met you on the roof_

_You caught me in your web of youth_

_But now I know the wicked truth_

_It's much too late_

_So what's the use in fighting?_

It was a fine time for reminiscing. Jack Sparrow had only recently escaped Davy Jones' Locker, a place he did not intend to visit again anytime in the foreseeable future, only to wind up floating in a murky oblivion watching the souls of the dead drift silently past. There was also the small fact that he trusted almost none of the others aboard the _Black Pearl_ who shared his current predicament. There was one person in particular, however, who invoked in him feelings that went beyond mistrust, feelings that made him question how well he really knew himself: Elizabeth Swann.

He had watched her surreptitiously while he pretended to study the map. She had been sitting near the stern, her knees tucked up under her chin, staring pensively off into the distance. He had wondered what she was thinking, while at the same time wondering why he cared. After all, what was she to him but his murderer? She was decidedly more trouble than she was worth. Had he not risked his own life to save hers? That last thought had forced him on an unwilling trip down memory lane.  
He remembered the resounding splash and the panicked cry of the former commodore that had sent him diving deep into the Caribbean to save a spoiled, haughty young girl he'd never even met. He recalled the night they'd spent together on Rumrunner Island, dancing around the fire like children, drinking rum and singing with gleeful abandon. He remembered her teasing him, goading him on the deck of the _Pearl _until he had come within a hairsbreadth of kissing her. And he remembered the feel of her lips on his at last when she'd shackled him to the mast, leaving him for the Kraken.

_What would her beloved William think of that, I wonder?_

The look of surprise and suspicion that had crossed the boy's face earlier had left no doubt in Jack's mind that Will hadn't an inkling his own dear fiancée had been responsible for consigning Captain Jack Sparrow to his death, as surely as if she had slit his throat herself with her pretty little hands.

_Only a matter of time till he finds out. Probably won't be too keen on marrying her then…_

A movement to his far right caught Jack's eye and he turned his head to see Will striding across the deck from the direction of the hold, Elizabeth not far behind him.

_Speak of the devil…_

"Will," she called out, but Will did not turn nor slow his pace. Elizabeth stopped suddenly, gazing after him sadly.

_Bet I know what that's all about, _Jack thought smugly. _No less than she deserves. _Elizabeth had inexorably pushed him one step too far. After innumerable narrow escapes that had left a myriad of scars on much of his body, death was not something Jack Sparrow took lightly – especially now that he'd experienced it firsthand.

_You peel me like an onion skin_

_And wonder at the state I'm in_

_One day you'll turn up to begin_

_And find there's nothing left but innuendo_

"Jack?"

So absorbed was he in his reverie that he had not heard Elizabeth approach. Force of habit compelled him to reach for the hilt of his sword before the identity of the speaker had even registered in his mind. A tentative hand touched his shoulder.

"Jack, I – "

He shook her off and turned so quickly, he nearly knocked her off balance.

"You'd best not make a habit of sneaking up on me, missy. I'd hate to force the crew to scrub your blood off the deck."

Elizabeth swallowed hard, but met his eyes steadily, despite his malevolent glare. "We need to talk," she said in a near whisper.

"We have nothing to talk about," Jack snapped.

Tears glimmered in Elizabeth's eyes as she reached for his hand. "Please, Jack –"

Once more, he brushed her aside as if she were no more than a pesky mosquito. "Look there, Miss Swann," he said, lifting a hand to point toward where Hector Barbossa stood at the helm. "That man stole my ship and left me to die not once, but _twice._" He held up two bejeweled fingers for emphasis, his eyes narrowing as he glowered at his former first mate. "And when the opportunity finally presented itself," he continued, his gaze sliding back to her face, "I did not hesitate to shoot him in the heart. And make no mistake, if I didn't need his bloody help getting out of this accursed place, I would gladly do it again." His dark eyes glinted dangerously as they bored into hers. "You chained me to this ship and left me to die. In my book, you're no better than he."

Elizabeth shook her head slightly and raised her hands as if to ward off his words. A tear slid down one pale cheek.

Jack leaned closer, his next words soft but deadly. "It would be wise to keep out of my way when I have vengeance on my mind."

Elizabeth turned and fled. She did not go to Will, Jack noticed, but to a far corner near where Tia Dalma sat.

_So much the better_, he thought. Now that that unpleasant but requisite discourse was over with, he could devote himself fully to guiding his beloved ship back to the warm waters of the Caribbean. But a moment later, Jack cursed his traitorous heart when the sounds of Elizabeth's sobs reached his ears.

"Bloody hell," he whispered to himself, clenching his fists. When had he allowed her to worm her way into his soul like this? He'd acquainted himself with countless women during his travels, each one more stunning than the last, and he had never denied himself the pleasure of their company, nor the pleasures their company could bring him. He had never formed any attachments to them, however, perpetually believing something – or some_one _– far more desirable awaited him at the next port of call. But since their first encounter on the docks of Port Royal, Elizabeth Swann was almost always on his mind.

_Beside you others fade away_

_Like amateurs in love's charade_

_Much more than just a game you play_

_These subtle moves become a way of living_

The sounds of Elizabeth's sobs had quieted now, but their effect on Jack's psyche was no less devastating. He had to fight the urge to go to her, comfort her. With shaking hands, he snatched up the map and strode briskly to his cabin.


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth Swann was thinking of Shakespeare. Though her eyes had followed Jack only moments before as he stormed into his cabin and slammed the door, she made no move to pursue him. He'd made it painfully clear that he abhorred the very sight of her. While making a halfhearted attempt to dry the tears that still coursed down her cheeks, a memory from her childhood had sprung, unbidden, to her mind.

Her father had given her an exquisite leather-bound book of Shakespearean sonnets for her twelfth birthday. Although she enjoyed the poetry, she longed to read the epic tragedies that had brought Shakespeare such acclaim, but her father had deemed them inappropriate for a young lady of her age and breeding. He himself had attended very few performances of said plays when they had lived in London.

"There are many vulgar sentiments expressed in those plays, Elizabeth," he'd asserted, "even in the comedies. I will not have my daughter reading tales of murder, greed, and debauchery."

Nevertheless, Elizabeth managed to sneak a copy of _Macbeth _from her father's massive library, convinced he would never know it was missing. Even at such a young age, the tragic tale of the Thane of Cawdor and his wife had enthralled her. But what had captivated her most of all was Lady Macbeth herself. In all the books Elizabeth had read, never had there been a female character so ruthless, so majestic. Some nights she would even act out the part in her bedchamber when she was sure her father and the servants were asleep. Elizabeth closed her eyes, remembering the moonlight on her face as she had fervently whispered Lady Macbeth's lines, her child's imagination conjuring images of herself years in the future, on the grandest stage in London, playing the part…

_And play the part I did, _she mused sadly. Had she not been heartless and cruel in shackling a man to his ship and leaving him there to die? And not just any man, but a man she had come to care for, perhaps more than she was prepared to admit?

_But there was no other way_, she reminded herself. _If Jack hadn't stayed behind with the _Pearl_, we all would have perished._

Elizabeth leaned forward and pressed her forehead to her knees. Rationalizing her actions in her own mind did nothing to assuage her guilt. Although they had rescued Jack from the Locker, she felt as though her hands were stained with his blood. And like Lady Macbeth, her guilt was slowly driving her mad.

"'…There's knocking at the gate…,'" she murmured, her gaze straying to the closed door of Jack's cabin. "'…What's done cannot be undone…'"


	3. Chapter 3

Jack deposited the bottle of rum back onto the table with a loud thump. He'd been in his cabin for nearly three-quarters of an hour, trying to drown his thoughts in the sweet lethe of his favorite drink. He'd put distance and four walls between himself and Elizabeth, but the image of her face continued to haunt him mercilessly.

_Night after night I try to prove_

_That I can resist you_

_Tied up inside your love voodoo_

_Designed to manipulate_

Elizabeth's very presence on the _Pearl _caused him to burn with anger and something more akin to desire, though he steadfastly chose not to dwell on the latter. He attempted to return his attention to the map, but the words and markings seemed to blur together in a meaningless jumble. With a frustrated growl, he swept his arm across the table, sending the map, the candle, and various trinkets to the floor. The candle sputtered and died, leaving him virtually enshrouded in darkness, save for a smaller candle still flickering on the far side of the room. He drained the last of the rum in one fiery gulp and with a quick flick of his wrist sent the bottle hurtling toward the opposite wall. The dissonance of exploding glass was shrill and startling in the otherwise silent cabin.

_That woman has already been the death of me once, _he thought furiously. _I will not allow her the chance to be the death of me again._

He crossed the room and sank down heavily on the bed, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted. He snuffed out the remaining candle with the tips of his fingers and lay back, staring into the blackness. He knew sleep would not come.


	4. Chapter 4

The brilliant sunlight did nothing to dispel the desolate chill in Elizabeth's bones. She felt as if she would never be warm again. The pain of losing Will's love and trust and of Jack's harsh, accusing words was dull compared to the anguish of losing her father. Upon returning from World's End none the worse for wear, the atmosphere aboard the _Black Pearl_ was one of elation and relief, but Elizabeth felt entirely removed from the scene. She closed her eyes mournfully, recalling her final glimpse of her father's beloved face and his parting words to her before vanishing into the eerie mist. _"I'll give your love to your mother, shall I?"_

_Everyone I've ever loved is lost to me. Mother, Father, Will, Jack… _Elizabeth's head jerked up with a start. Jack? Where had that name come from?

_I don't love Jack. How could I possibly love Jack? He's selfish, egotistical, and childish, and a coward to boot. He's a pirate…_

_ "Pirate," _she heard Jack's voice whisper tauntingly in her mind, just as he had when she'd sealed his fate with a deadly kiss before turning her back on him, seemingly forever. And suddenly she recalled standing with Jack near the _Dauntless'_ rail as they drew ever closer to Isla de Muerta.

_"You're a smart man, Jack," _she'd said to him then, _"but I don't entirely trust you." _She'd half expected him to be angry or even indignant, but he'd merely smirked.

_"Peas in a pod, darling," _he'd answered in a low voice.

Jack had known even then how very much alike the two of them were, even if she herself had not. They both craved freedom, the freedom to live life as they pleased, the powers that be, be damned, the freedom to take what they could and give nothing back, to sail the world with no thought but to discover where the next treasure lay – the freedom that only the sea could bring.

_I could never be happy simply being a blacksmith's wife. _As soon as the thought entered her mind, however, Elizabeth felt sick with guilt. She had cared for Will so deeply for so long, she couldn't imagine what her life would be like without him. But she also couldn't imagine what her life would be like without Captain Jack Sparrow. Since that fateful day that he had saved her from drowning, her life had changed, _she _had changed, irrevocably. And from the moment she had set foot on the _Black Pearl_, once again under the command of Jack and his crew, she had felt at home there, more so than she had ever felt in Jamaica or London.

Elizabeth suddenly envisioned herself standing proudly at the _Pearl's_ helm, the salt spray on her face and the wind whipping her hair, while Jack stood beside her, his sure hands steady on the wheel, guiding them to the next exotic port…

Jack, so handsome he fairly took her breath away, particularly when his lips curved in the trademark smirk that both infuriated and intoxicated her. Jack, whose dark, mysterious eyes drew her in, hypnotizing her, until she felt she would drown in their depths. She loved his sense of adventure, the way he threw care to the wind, never once giving a damn what others thought. And although he'd tried to deny it to her – and, she suspected, to himself – she knew deep down he was a good man.

He was, in fact, every inch the legend she had spent hours daydreaming about as a child. Elizabeth recalled the jolt of recognition she had felt on the docks of Port Royal when James had pushed back Jack's sleeve, revealing a tattoo of a sparrow in flight. Her lips had begun to move of their own accord, his name on the tip of her tongue, when suddenly another thought completely robbed her of speech: _Jack Sparrow just saved my life! Jack sparrow, captain of the elusive _Black Pearl_, rescued me from drowning! _The thought made her knees weaken, and she had clutched her father's arm for balance. As Elizabeth continued to stare in wonder, James made a snide comment to which Jack replied smugly, _"But you have heard of me."_ As if he had read her thoughts, his eyes had met hers briefly before he flashed her a saucy wink, and much to her chagrin, she found herself blushing to the roots of her hair. That had been her very first encounter with the illustrious Captain Sparrow and as she had lain awake in her bed that evening, she had found herself wishing it would not be her last.

_But had I known then what I know now, _she couldn't help wondering, _would I still feel that way?_

"Yes," she whispered without hesitation. Though the cataclysmic chain of events that had led her to this point had been rife with horror and grief, Elizabeth had discovered something important along the way: herself. She thought of the old Elizabeth Swann, the governor's daughter who quietly obeyed her father's wishes and knew her place in society.

_That was never who I was meant to be._

_ This _was who she was meant to be, this new Elizabeth Swann who wore breeches instead of frilly skirts, who adored the tangy scent of the sea and the feel of a ship rocking gently beneath her feet, who never felt so exhilarated as when she felt the cool steel of a blade in her hand, matching her enemy blow for blow.

_"Pirate," _she heard Jack's voice again in her mind, and she knew at long last it was true.


	5. Chapter 5

_The queen of sensuality_

_ You shelter me from liberty_

_ It's nothing short of piracy_

_ That's not to say it doesn't please me sometimes_

Jack lowered his spyglass and sighed. Land was still a long way off. He glanced over to where Elizabeth sat huddled on the stairs. She looked so small and forlorn, her arms wrapped around her knees and her shoulders hunched, as if she were trying to crawl inside herself, that Jack felt a pang of sympathy. He couldn't begin to imagine the agony she must be feeling, how the knowledge that her father was now gone from this world must be tearing her apart inside. For the briefest of moments, he considered offering her some small measure of comfort, perhaps allowing her to seek solace in his arms and cry her heart out on his shoulder, if need be. But his pride had suffered a severe beating the last time he'd had occasion to take Elizabeth in his arms, one he wouldn't soon forget.

He'd had plenty of time to brood about that deadly kiss while he was in the Locker, and brood he had. He'd replayed it over and over again in his mind, his thoughts chasing each other in maddening circles until he felt they would drive him to the very brink of insanity. The only conclusion he'd come to, however, the only one that made sense, was one that he hated to admit, even to himself: Elizabeth wasn't to blame for his death. And as much as he tried to hate her, _wanted_ to hate her, with every fiber of his being, he found he could not. He'd made his deal with the Devil and he'd had to pay his dues, like it or not. His pact with Davy Jones had been his burden, and his alone, to bear. Elizabeth had done the only thing she _could _do under the circumstances. A very _pirate _thing to do, he had to concede, and that somehow made it all worth it. Hadn't he predicted this eventuality, that she would come over to his side, as it were? He'd ultimately been proven right, and it had cost him dearly. Oh, she'd told him she wasn't sorry, but when he'd looked into her eyes, some small part of him had been gratified to see the regret reflected there – the same part of him that knew wherever this strange journey took them, he did not want it to end with her slipping, once again, from his grasp.

When she had come to him the night before, no doubt seeking his forgiveness, his first thought had not been of revenge, but of how beautiful she looked to him right then: her eyes huge and somber, her face grim but determined, her lower lip trembling slightly. At that moment, he felt he could forgive her anything, and that thought alone unnerved him to no end. So he'd lashed out at her viciously, the memory of his cruel words now making him cringe. He longed to snatch those words back, and Jack Sparrow had rarely had reason to feel sorry for anything in his life.

What was it about this woman that so easily wreaked utter havoc upon his sensibilities? She was undeniably attractive, but she was also stubborn, strong-willed, and recusant. Then there was that feisty temperament…

He abruptly became aware that he wasn't merely detailing negative aspects of Elizabeth's character; those were the things he loved most about her. And with that came the staggering realization that he _had_ come to love her, despite all his efforts to keep at her arm's length, despite the fact that she was betrothed to another man, a man Jack had come to think of as a friend. It was an impossible situation, but then, he'd found himself in many an impossible situation in the past, and he'd always managed to come out on top.

_After all, _he thought proudly, _I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Now this may come as no surprise_

_ But I'm content to compromise_

_ Until the day you realize _

_ That I have been manipulating you_

The weathered boards creaked and groaned with approaching footfall, the sound unnaturally ominous. A pair of boots appeared in Elizabeth's line of vision. She glanced up to see Will staring down at her, his expression unreadable.

"May I speak with you alone?" he asked quietly.

Elizabeth bit her lip and nodded curtly. "If you wish."

She followed Will down to the ship's hold, where they'd had their last – and exceedingly unpleasant – conversation.

"Well?" she asked, folding her arms and raising her chin. "What did you want to talk about?"

Will held her eyes for a long moment before heaving a deep sigh. "Elizabeth," he said gently, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, "You don't have to look so fierce."

Elizabeth also sighed and finally dropped her arms to her sides. "What is it, Will?" she asked in a softer tone.

"I've been thinking about…us." Will paused, seeming unsure how to continue. When he spoke again, his voice was so low that Elizabeth had to strain to hear him.

"Elizabeth," he began, suddenly reaching a hand out, his fingertips barely grazing her cheek. "I'll never forget the day your father and the crew pulled me from the sea. I opened my eyes and there you were, hovering over me." He smiled wistfully. "I thought you must be an angel."

Elizabeth felt tears begin to sting her eyes.

Will took one of her hands gently in both of his. "I've loved you all these years," he said, his voice breaking. "I've loved you for so long that I don't think I know how to stop."

Elizabeth regarded him wordlessly, the tears falling in earnest now. He had unknowingly echoed the sentiments that had been at the forefront of her thoughts only a short while earlier, yet that did not lessen the unbearable sorrow she felt upon hearing him speak the words aloud.

Will gently brushed a tear from her face. "Something has changed between us, Elizabeth. I have this terrible fear that I'm losing you."

Elizabeth could not find it in her heart to contradict him. She focused on the stained and pitted floor, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Will nodded slightly. "Your silence leads me to believe I'm right."

"I'm so sorry, Will." Elizabeth's voice was an aggrieved whisper.

"I must help my father," Will murmured as if he hadn't heard her. His eyes seemed to be fixated on a spot somewhere above her head. Elizabeth was confused by the abrupt change in subject. Even more perplexing, however, was the expression of guilt that momentarily flickered across his handsome features as he spoke.

"Will?"

Ever so slowly, his gaze drifted back to her face. His jaw tightened. "It's Jack, isn't it?"

Elizabeth felt as if all the breath had left her body. This was the question she had been dreading from the moment Will had asked to speak with her alone. "Oh, Will," she sighed. "It's not Jack. It's me. This may not be the life you or my father would have chosen for me, or even what I may have chosen for myself a year or two ago, but I believe this life has chosen me."

Will shook his head. "I don't understand. What life?"

"The life of a pirate," Elizabeth stated firmly.

"The life of a…" Will gaped at her. "So you mean to tell me you would give up everything, your life in Port Royal, _me_, so you can play at being a _pirate_?" He spat the last word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Elizabeth's eyes hardened. "This is not a game, Will. It never was." Tears filled her eyes once more. "As far as my life in Port Royal is concerned, that life ended with the death of my father." Her countenance became grim. "Besides, what choice do I have? If I even dared to return to Port Royal now, I would surely be arrested, or even hanged."

"And what about me? What about us?"

Elizabeth tried to turn away, but Will grasped her upper arms. "Tell me the truth," he implored, his eyes locked on hers. "You're in love with Jack, aren't you?"

"Yes," Elizabeth whispered, loath to hurt him, yet feeling an odd sense of relief at having finally voiced her true feelings. Will stared into her eyes for a moment longer before releasing her arms and taking a step backward. "I'm sorry," she repeated, the words sounding trite and hollow to her own ears.

"It wasn't the answer I wanted to hear, but it was the answer I half expected," Will replied quietly.

Elizabeth frowned. "What – "

"I could see it in your eyes, Elizabeth, especially the day Jack died." He swallowed. "I saw you kiss him."

Elizabeth didn't know how to respond. It seemed there were no words left, nothing she could say that would make this painful situation any easier for either of them.

"I can see it in his eyes as well," Will continued. "I've seen him watching you, although he tries to hide it."

Elizabeth couldn't conceal her surprise. "I've never noticed – " she began, but Will cut her off.

"I've tried to turn a blind eye, tried to convince myself I was only imagining it, but I think perhaps I've fooled myself long enough now."

Elizabeth's fair cheeks flushed with indignation. "If you're trying to imply that Jack and I have…that we…" Thoroughly outraged, she couldn't even finish the thought. "Aside from that one kiss – a kiss that ultimately saved _all _our lives, I might add – there has never been anything between us." Her fury quickly dissipated, however, when she contemplated the heartache Will must have suffered, believing she and Jack were carrying on an affair in secret. "Please believe me, Will. I would never betray you like that." Elizabeth's shoulders slumped, and she dabbed at her eyes with her shirtsleeve. "Truth be told, Jack's made it very clear that he sees me as nothing more than a vile murderer. He likened me to Barbossa."

Will gave her a tight smile. "Jack does have quite a way with words."

Elizabeth had the sudden uncomfortable feeling that Will had overheard every word she and Jack had exchanged the night before.

"But you know as well as I that Jack uses those long-winded speeches of his to disguise his feelings, and he certainly has a knack for avoiding the truth at all costs. However angry he may be – and rightfully so – I don't believe his feelings for you have changed."

Elizabeth didn't answer. Will placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "My feelings for you haven't changed either, Elizabeth; I won't pretend otherwise. I would marry you this very moment if it were possible, but every time I held you in my arms, every time I kissed you, I would never be certain if you were thinking of me – " a trace of bitterness crept into his voice – "or of Jack. I still love you, Elizabeth, but I won't live a lie."

"I understand," Elizabeth whispered sadly.

Will nodded, gazing at her face as if memorizing every detail, every curve, every line, as if he might never see her again. Then he cupped her chin in his hands and kissed her softly. "Goodbye, Elizabeth." Elizabeth watched as he turned and climbed the stairs toward the deck, wincing as the door slammed shut with awful finality. An overwhelming sadness weighed heavily on her soul, yet at the same time, she felt as though an incredible burden had been lifted from her shoulders. A chapter in her life had just ended, but she was free now, free to look toward the future…whatever it may be.


	7. Chapter 7

_Night after night I try to prove_

_ That I can resist you_

_ Tied up inside your love voodoo_

_ Designed to manipulate_

Night was falling when Elizabeth finally emerged from the hold. She'd stayed below for a long while, simply desiring to be alone with her thoughts. The sea had become choppy and rough, and she stumbled slightly as she made her way to the starboard side. As she leaned her elbows on the rail and watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon, she suddenly sensed she was not alone. She turned her head slightly to see that Jack had joined her at the rail, his eyes fixed on the glorious sunset.

Elizabeth tensed, in no mood for another confrontation. But Jack seemed to sense her anxiety, or perhaps even anticipate it, for he suddenly covered one of her hands with his own, his touch surprisingly gentle. She found herself hard-pressed to equate this feather-light touch with a man so adept at handling a sword and pistol, a man who had unflinchingly sent a bullet through another man's heart with no regrets. Moreover, she could scarcely believe he was even touching her at all, given the fact that the last time they'd spoken, he'd seemed quite prepared to run her through.

"I'm sorry about your father," Jack said quietly.

"Thank you," Elizabeth replied somewhat stiffly. She couldn't begin to fathom Jack's mood swings. Was this just a precursor to more angry words and threats, or was he being sincere?

Jack cleared his throat. "I must confess, Elizabeth, I find myself in rather unfamiliar territory at the moment."

Elizabeth squinted up at him, her brow furrowed. "And how's that?"

Jack took a deep breath and drew himself up to his full height. "I am about to say something that I've never said to another living soul," he intoned, spreading his arms wide in a grand gesture meant to indicate that this was indeed something of great importance.

He appeared so ill at ease that Elizabeth felt a tiny trickle of fear. This was a side of Jack Sparrow she had never seen before. She waited for him to speak, but he had fallen uncharacteristically silent, nervously twisting one of the colorful beads that hung from his beard.

"Jack?" she prompted gently. As he opened his mouth to speak, a particularly large swell slammed against the port side of the _Pearl._ Jack maintained his balance with the ease borne of long years at sea, but Elizabeth pitched forward against the rail. She screamed, sure she was about to tumble overboard, when Jack's arm shot out, quick as lightning, to yank her back. One she had settled back on her feet, he placed both hands on her shoulders to steady her, his earlier discomfort replaced with concern.

"You all right?"

Elizabeth gave a shaky nod, inwardly cursing herself for letting a typical seafaring occurrence catch her so completely unawares, especially in front of Jack. She'd wanted to appear cool, calm, and collected, not allowing him even the briefest glimpse of her inner turmoil, but now she feared she'd just come across as some sort of helpless, hysterical female. She tried to take a deep breath to soothe her frazzled nerves, then winced, her hands coming up to flutter over her now tender ribcage.

"Likely be sore for a while," Jack commented, his eyes following her movement. "Probably have a nice bruise to show for it, too." His hands were still on her shoulders, warm and strong, his gaze intent on her face.

Elizabeth blushed under his scrutiny, intensely aware of how close they were standing to one another. "I'll live," she replied, not meeting his eyes.

Jack's grip tightened suddenly. "Elizabeth, I wanted to tell you…I'm sorry."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. The last thing she'd expected was an apology. Suddenly recalling his earlier pronouncement, she stared at him in shock. "Do you mean to tell me you've never apologized to anyone before?"

"Never," he swore, his dark eyes solemn.

_He's never apologized for anything in his life, yet he's apologizing to me. _Curiously enough, she felt deeply touched by the sentiment.

"You came to me to make amends and I all but drew my sword on you," Jack continued.

"You would have had every right, after what I did to you," Elizabeth replied brokenly, her eyes filling with tears.

"Didn't mean to make you cry again," Jack muttered, patting his coat packets. He proffered his empty hands apologetically. "A proper gentleman should at least have a handkerchief to offer you."

Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself. "Since when are you concerned with being a proper gentleman?"

Jack smirked. "True enough."

"Jack," Elizabeth said, wiping her eyes, "leaving you behind that day was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

"But it _was _something that had to be done, love. I very nearly left all of you behind."

Elizabeth's lips tightened and she frowned, remembering the rage she'd felt when she'd noticed the lone figure frantically rowing away from the ship.

"I relived that day in my mind many times while I was in the Locker and try as I might, I couldn't bring myself to hate you for what you'd done." Jack smiled wryly. "Truth is, I've come to admire you for it."

"Admire me?" Elizabeth replied, baffled.

Jack's smile widened. "Aye. A true act of piracy, it was."

"I suppose it was," Elizabeth conceded, thinking of her conversation with Will. "But" –

"No buts, love. There's no room for guilt or regret in the heart of a pirate. And you _are _a pirate, Elizabeth, whether you know it or not." He gave her a smug grin. "I knew it all along."

Elizabeth fought to suppress a smile. "You're impossible, Jack."

"So they tell me."

Elizabeth sighed. "Well, I may be a pirate, but I've no ship to call home. In fact, I'm afraid I don't have much of anything right now except the clothes on my back."

Jack frowned, hearing the melancholy in her voice. "If it's a ship you're looking for, then look no further. I can always use another crew member. That's not what's troubling you, though, is it?"

Elizabeth looked away. "Will and I have had a parting of the ways, so to speak."

Jack wasn't entirely surprised by this revelation, given the scene he had witnessed the previous evening. He did, however, begin to give serious consideration to the actual extent of his role in the demise of their relationship. He had already assumed Will had discovered the truth of Elizabeth's wicked deed, but he wondered now if he somehow knew about the passionate kiss that had prefaced it. He rubbed the back of his neck, which suddenly felt very hot. "I could talk to him for you, if you think it would help." He couldn't think of anything he would rather do less.

Elizabeth shook her head. "It won't change anything. Besides, I think it's for the best, considering…"

Jack arched an eyebrow. "Considering?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Will is a good man, but he and I seem to be traveling entirely different paths now. He's content to be a blacksmith for the rest of his life, making an honest living, whereas I…" Once again, her voice trailed off as Jack peered at her curiously.

"Whereas?" Jack echoed, feeling like a parrot.

Elizabeth looked directly into his eyes then, smiling almost shyly. "I need adventure, Jack. I need freedom. I need…"

"The _Pearl_," Jack finished for her with a gold-flecked grin.

Elizabeth's smile faltered, and for a moment, Jack feared she would disagree. "Yes, the _Pearl_," she said finally, the smile returning to her face. As she turned toward the sea once again, he thought he heard her add something under her breath, though he couldn't quite catch it.

"What was that, love?"

"Hmm?" Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at him distractedly, as if he'd startled her out of a deep thought. "Oh, I…nothing."

Jack cleared his throat. "You know, Elizabeth, I meant what I said before. You're welcome to stay aboard the _Pearl_ as long as you like."

She had turned away from him once more, but he thought he saw a tiny smile appear as his gaze fell upon the delicate curve of her jaw. "Thank you, Jack."

He laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze. "I'll be in my cabin. Let me know if there's anything you need."

He was halfway there when Elizabeth's voice reached him. "You."

Jack spun around, not entirely sure she was speaking to him. Elizabeth was watching him intently, her face flushed, her lovely brown eyes reflecting fear and…another emotion that he couldn't quite identify. He took a cautious step forward. "Come again?"

"I need you, Jack," she stated simply, and it was then that he recognized the love in her eyes.

Jack tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone completely dry. He crossed the remaining distance between them and studied her face. "Elizabeth," he said hoarsely, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Elizabeth was silent for what seemed like an eternity. "I love you," she replied finally.

Jack closed his eyes as her words swept over him, filling him with a blissful warmth and contentment he hadn't felt in a very long time. When he opened his eyes again, he found her searching his face, waiting for a response. He grinned lazily. "Such a fine young lady in love with a pirate? What will people say?"

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open in astonishment. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Jack – " Anger rose like bile in her throat, practically choking her, much of it directed at herself for making such a confession in the first place. Never in her life had she felt so humiliated.

_What did you expect? _she berated herself._ Did you think he would fall to his knees and declare his undying love for you?_

Seemingly oblivious to her discomfort, Jack blew gently on one of his rings and began polishing the emerald gemstone on the edge of his coat. "You know, Lizzie," he began nonchalantly, "I knew it all along."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Knew _what_?"

"That I was right about you and I…I and you…us. I did, in fact, propose to you on this very deck, but if I remember correctly, you said, 'No, thank you.'" He affected a high-pitched feminine tone and smirked at her outraged expression. "I knew you would come over to my side eventually."

"This isn't about being right!" Elizabeth seethed. She had expected more from him. Perhaps not an open declaration of love, but certainly not this mockery he was making of her feelings. Her palm itched to slap him, to make him feel an iota of the pain she was feeling now. She could feel the tears starting again, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She turned, preparing to stalk away, but Jack caught her wrist.

"Elizabeth. "

She looked back at him and felt her breath catch as she saw that all traces of humor were gone from his face. He was as serious as she'd ever seen him.

"I'm sorry."

Elizabeth felt her ire slip away as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Two apologies in one day? This is certainly a monumental occasion."

Jack nodded. "It is. I love you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth searched his face for any indication that he was joking, but found none. She stared up at him wordlessly, completely bereft of speech.

"I've never said _that _to another living soul, either," Jack said quietly. He slowly lowered his face to hers and as their lips met, Elizabeth felt an indescribable joy radiate throughout her entire being. She felt as if she had finally truly come home.

"Jack?" she whispered, her face mere inches from his.

"Hmm?"

"What made you decide to break two of your rules in one day?" At his bewildered expression, Elizabeth smiled flirtatiously. "Well, first you apologized – twice, I might add – and then you told me you loved me. Why me?"

Jack contemplated the events that had led them both to this time and place, the circumstances that had intertwined their lives. In Elizabeth, he'd found a kindred spirit, a woman both brave and beautiful with whom he could share a lifetime of adventures.

Jack grinned slyly. "Because you're a pirate."


End file.
